Tonight, on this disregarded sidewalk, I lay me down on a bed of crystal kernels and wrap myself in corn starch linens. Like a lover leaving at dawn, eider down flakes from winter's twilight will caress me to dreams. Tomorrow's sun will bring a hint of dandelions to this snow cemetery yet I will be the melt's mourner, Recording, in my singular madness, mid-March emotions until that mid-August time when others will comprehend my grief. The coming rains will turn this frozen citadel to ice and spring's waters will release a February flow trickling life from my love's dwindling form.

Copyright � 1996 Ian Lynch. All rights reserved